On Valentine's Day, I suggest going to a restaurant to celebrate, but my boyfriend, Michael Nelson, refuses. He says impatiently, "Why should we celebrate some lousy holiday? I don't want to waste good money on it."

He turns around and happily chats away on his phone, completely absorbed in the conversation.

Then, I hear the system's notification going off in my head. "Congratulations. You have received 2,860 dollars."

This means that Michael just transferred 1,430 dollars to his side chick. He doesn't know it yet, but I have a system. It's called the Infidelity Cashback System.

Every time he spends money on his other woman, I get double the cashback in my bank account.

By my second year with Michael Nelson, he had started coming home later and later. He would always say that work kept him busy.

But when I helped him with his dirty laundry, I would always catch whiffs of perfume from his clothes.

I never used perfume.

When I questioned him about it, he snapped impatiently, "It must've gotten on me by accident somehow. Don't be so paranoid."

I was only half-convinced by him, but I didn't ask any further.

This continued until a trip I took to the shopping mall. On the way back, I passed a fine-dining restaurant.

Through the window, I saw Michael and another woman sitting side by side, all cozy and intimate. He fed her a piece of steak, and she fed him a bite of foie gras.

They looked like such a loving couple.

I was dumbstruck. I didn't know what to do. What shocked me the most was the fact that the woman was Ivy Lewis, my good friend.

My hands clenched around my shopping bags until my nails dug into my palms.

It was Valentine's Day. I'd specifically gone to the mall to buy some gifts for him, that bastard! I wanted to break up with him!

At that very moment, a robotic voice rang out in my head.

"The system has detected a prospective host, Rowena Hurst. You have met the conditions for the Infidelity Cashback System. Would you like to activate it? If you do, whenever your partner spends money on his infidelity partner, twice the amount will be transferred to your bank account."

As I stared at the cheating couple who were all wrapped up in each other's arms, as if they were alone in this world, I agreed without hesitation.

"Yes. I'll activate it. I want him to pay through the nose—until he goes broke!"

…

When Michael got home that night and saw the empty dining table, he frowned. "Why haven't you made dinner yet?"

Swallowing back my anger, I faked a smile and said, "Well, it's Valentine's Day today. Why don't we go out for dinner and celebrate?"

Ever since we got together, I had always been the one who cooked for the two of us. He kept saying that eating out was expensive, and he rarely agreed to dine out with me.

Even when we did, I was always the one who paid the bill.

In the past, I was always understanding because he had founded his own company, so I knew that cash was tight for him. I also thought he was just a frugal person.

As it turned out, he was only frugal when it came to me.

When I previously told him that I wanted to have Valentine's Day dinner at the restaurant where I had seen him that day, he said he didn't like the type of food they served and refused to go.

Next thing I knew, I saw him eating there with Ivy, and forking out money for the thousand-dollar Valentine's Day couple's special, no less.

As expected, Michael shrugged and said, "Why should we celebrate some lousy holiday? I don't want to waste good money on it. Being economical is the right way to live. Hurry up and make dinner. I'm starving!"

Once he finished speaking, he lounged on the couch and started tapping away on his phone, completely absorbed in his conversation with someone. The delight in his eyes was unmistakable.

Then, I heard the system's notification going off in my head. "Congratulations. You have received 2,860 dollars.

He had just sent Ivy some money—1,430 dollars, to be specific. It was that popular trend of using the numbers 143 to represent "I love you".

This bastard had never been this romantic with me before. He refused to celebrate any sort of occasion or anniversary. Even dining out was considered a waste of money to him, yet here he was being very generous, sending money to his side chick.

The thought of this made me grind my teeth in anger. Fortunately, I snapped out of it when I saw the notification from my bank.

I felt a lot better after that.

That night, while Michael was fast asleep, I secretly checked his phone and found his chat with Ivy. If I hadn't done that, I wouldn't have known that they'd been going behind my back for ages now.

I was the fool who'd been blind to it the entire time.

As I read the sweet nothings they exchanged—a "babe" here, a "darling" there—I felt nauseated.

Finally, I read their latest exchange. Ivy said her birthday was coming up, so she wanted Michael to give her a gift and plan a surprise.

A lightbulb went off in my head. This was the perfect chance!

The next day, I called Ivy and invited her to go shopping with me at the biggest mall in the city.

It had been a while since we last met. Ivy showed up all decked out in a flashy outfit, like a peacock showing off its feathers, which was a rare sight for her.

That eye-catching red dress she wore was from the latest collection released by a famous brand. It was completely at odds with her usual taste in clothing, which leaned toward a sweet, dainty aesthetic.

I pretended to admire her outfit. "This dress is a new release! I haven't even bought it yet. Did your boyfriend give it to you?"

On Valentine's Day, she uploaded a vague screenshot of the money Michael had transferred to her on social media. All of her friends thought she'd found a boyfriend, and she didn't deny it.

Smiling smugly, Ivy replied, "That's right. My boyfriend dotes on me a lot. He buys me everything I want."

"When are you going to introduce him to me? I'll help you figure out if he's a good guy," I said.

Her doe eyes flashed with just the slightest hint of guilt as she tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "Oh, he's quite busy. Maybe next time."

I scoffed to myself.

Looking at her heavily made-up face, I exclaimed, "Has your skin been acting up lately? Your foundation looks all cakey."

Ivy had always been incredibly obsessed with her face. She claimed that her looks were her most significant asset and had always taken great pride in them.

As expected, once she heard what I said, she took a compact mirror out of her handbag and quickly checked her face, looking all nervous as she did.

"You must have had a lot of late nights, huh? Your skin is suffering because of it. You should buy some skincare products today to pamper your skin a little," I remarked.

As she looked in the mirror, she thought of something, and her eyes flashed with a hint of bashfulness. "I have been staying up quite a lot lately…"

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I dragged her into the nearest luxury beauty store. The sales associate enthusiastically showed her every new skincare and makeup line. Since she rarely entered stores like this one, she happily sampled everything.

I picked up a random bottle of face essence and sighed. "All of these products would be perfect for you. It's such a shame you can't buy them all."

Ivy, who was trying on some lipstick, stiffened for a moment, but she soon said somewhat proudly, "I'll get everything today. My boyfriend's got money."

The sales associate grinned from ear to ear when she heard that. She eagerly ushered Ivy to the counter for payment.

Then, I heard the wonderful voice of the system saying, "Congratulations. You have received 10,000 dollars."

As I watched Ivy from behind, my lips curled ever so slightly.

…

When Ivy and I ate together, I deliberately brought up her birthday. "Your birthday's coming soon, right, Ivy? How do you plan on celebrating it this year?"

Ivy took a sip of water before saying nonchalantly, "How else can I celebrate it? I'll just gather some of my friends and have a meal together, like I always do."

I smiled and insisted, "That won't do! It's your 25th birthday—your quarter-life milestone! You need to have a big celebration. Throw a huge bash, maybe? After all, your boyfriend's paying for it."

That last sentence definitely made Ivy waver, so I seized the chance to add on, "I have a contact at an event-planning company that specializes in influencer events. They've handled tons of birthdays and can definitely make you the envy of everyone at your party."

Ivy seemed to be picturing the scene already. She smiled giddily and said, "You're right. I should have a grand celebration."

I smiled just as happily as she did, knowing that the company I recommended was the most expensive in the industry.

This time, someone was about to shell out a fortune.

…

That night, when Michael got home and saw the shopping bags from luxury brands that I'd left on the couch, he frowned and questioned, "Have you been shopping for handbags again? What's the point of these anyway? Can they be used to feed you?

"You know very well that I don't like materialistic women. I fell in love with you because you're not vain and shallow like all those other wealthy socialites, the ones who buy everything they see. Even if you have money, you shouldn't be wasting it on things that are this expensive."

In the past, he could've fooled me with all of his self-righteous preaching.

But now, all I wanted was to smack him in the face with a wad of cash. I was spending my own money, yet he still found fault with it.

Did he just say he didn't like vain, shallow, and materialistic women?

Well, just earlier that day, he spent thousands of dollars on cosmetics for Ivy. He even liked the photo she uploaded of her shopping haul this evening.

Michael obviously had double standards, and I was the sucker.

"These are just some birthday gifts I got for a friend," I explained to him.

Immediately, his expression relaxed, and he asked, seemingly casually, "Which friend? Is it Ivy?"

I looked up at him. "How did you know that her birthday's coming up?"

Michael's eyes flashed with unease as he laughed and brushed me off, saying, "I was just guessing. I think you mentioned it before."

I snorted to myself. I'd never told Michael about Ivy's birthday before. He didn't even remember my birthday, but he sure did remember his girlfriend's friend's birthday.

It was truly a joke.

I didn't bother pressing any further. Pointing at one of the bags, I asked, "Do you think she'll like that color?"

He glanced at it before answering, "It looks nice. She'll like white."

"It's a little expensive, though," I said with feigned vexation.

"How is it expensive? After all, it's a gift for Ivy," Michael blurted.

I snorted again as I recalled what happened the last time he forgot my birthday. He said that he wanted to make it up to me by getting me a necklace, so I sent him the link for one. It cost 888 dollars, and that was the discounted price, too.

However, he ended up saying that it was too expensive, grumbling in displeasure, "Why are you so materialistic? I can't believe you'd ask me to buy such an expensive necklace."

I was stunned.

This necklace was already way cheaper than what I'd normally buy. I'd only picked it out because of his financial constraints, what with his company and everything.

In the end, he gave me a necklace that had supposedly cost 200 dollars. I wore it for just one day before having an allergic reaction. Now that I thought about it, I got the feeling that it probably didn't even cost 20 bucks.

Yet when it came to his birthday, I had given him a watch that cost five figures, and he showed no hesitation in accepting it. He was pretty thrilled with it, in fact.

The handbag I pointed at cost a few thousand dollars, but Michael said it wasn't expensive.

Looking at him, I suggested, "Since you also know Ivy, why don't you buy her a handbag as well? She likes them."

He hesitated for a moment before agreeing to it. He even picked out a handbag that was even more expensive than the one I had gotten.

If not for the money I received in my bank account, I would've slapped him across the face.

…

Ivy's birthday party was indeed a grand event.

It was held on the outdoor lawn of a five-star hotel, which was covered in pink roses. A massive heart made of red roses stood at the center, with her initials in the middle.

When all her friends came to take photos of the decor, they gushed over everything.

"Everything looks gorgeous!"

"I'd be thrilled to death if my husband treated me this well."

"You're so lucky, Ivy!"

"Look at all these lovely flowers. It must've cost a fortune, right?"

On and on they went, while I smiled faintly on the side. Over 200 thousand dollars had been spent on the party. How could it not be gorgeous?

Ivy wore a pink lace gown with a matching tiara, making her look like a princess straight out of a fairytale. Her eyes shone with delight as everyone showered her with compliments.

When I handed my gift to her, I curiously asked, "Why isn't your boyfriend here?"

Ivy glanced at Michael and, her smile shy, said, "Something came up, so he couldn't make it. But since he did all this for me, it feels like he's here, too. I'm very happy."

Smiling, I expressed my pity that he couldn't make it.

I watched as she flitted through the crowd, basking in the looks of envy everyone gave her. Turning to Michael, I said, "I envy her so much. Her boyfriend is such a great guy. When can I have a birthday party like this, too?"

I saw the imperceptible smile that crept over Michael's lips, but what he said to me was, "Don't even think about it. It'd be a waste of money if you throw a birthday party like this."

Then, he even changed the subject. "Besides, if you've got that kind of money to spare, you should invest it in my company instead."

My mood soured. Narrowing my eyes, I studied him.

Ever since we got engaged, he'd been dropping hints—some subtle, some not so subtle—about wanting my family to invest in his company.

He had even brought it up with my father before, but Dad didn't agree to it. His eyes had flashed with an almost undetectable hint of hostility then. He probably took it as his future father-in-law refusing to help him, and that pissed him off.

As it was, Dad simply wanted him to gain more business experience first.

However, it was from that point onward that his attitude started to change.

I took a sip of red wine before asking in feigned confusion, "Isn't your company doing perfectly fine? Why do you keep wanting my family to invest in it?"